


Princesses Can’t Be Choosers

by Omnicat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:20:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Relena gets picked to be the princess in the school play, and she doesn’t like it one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princesses Can’t Be Choosers

Mareen Darlian had wondered when her daughter returned from school and didn’t greet her, had observed as Relena, usually such a steadfast worker, frowned and abandoned her activities throughout the afternoon, and waited patiently during the evening meal. When Pagan brought in the desserts and Relena had yet to speak, she sighed quietly to herself. Such a kind and spirited girl, but so reticent.

"What’s the matter, Relena? You’ve been so gloomy today."

"Nothing, Mother." she mumbled, fiddling with her spoon and drawing figures in her rice pudding.

"Don’t lie to your mother, dear, they can tell when you do." Mareen said kindly, and leaned over to stroke her daughter’s hair.

Relena looked away, bit her lip, and with an air of admitting to something highly distasteful, said: "I got picked to be the princess in the school play."

Mareen looked at her daughter in surprise. "But that’s wonderful, isn’t it?" she said, ignoring the pang in her chest that, even after all those years, still accompanied the word ‘princess’.

"No." The expression of aversion turned into a pout, and seven years worth of etiquette classes weren’t enough to keep her from petulantly dumping her spoon in her pudding and crossing her arms over her chest. "I don’t want to be the princess."

Like Relena’s expression, the pang in Mareen’s chest turned into a painful twang. "Why not? It’s a lead role, aren’t you exited?"

"I wanted to be the prince, but they wouldn’t let me."

Mareen’s eyebrows shot up. The prince? That wasn’t like Relena. She liked pink and girlie things just fine, never complained about being made to wear dresses, and did not, to the best of Mareen’s knowledge, participate in boys’ rough-and-tumble games.

"Well, girls can’t be princes, darling. Only boys can."

"A girl prince!"

"But that’s what princesses _are_. They’re exactly the same; one word is for boys, the other for girls. You know that."

Relena shook her head stubbornly, her shoulder-length fanning out with the force. "They’re different. Princesses don’t get to do anything. They just sit around and get kidnapped and marry the prince. I don’t wanna be a princess who never does anything. I don’t care if I’d have to be a boy, I want to be a prince and save people!"

"Oh, Relena." _My sweet darling girl, you have no idea what you’re saying._

Forcing the memories down, Mareen pushed off from her chair, knelt next to Relena’s, and took her hands. Times like these, when Relena would balk and protest at everyday things, without any evident preamble and for reasons outside Mareen’s expectation, never failed to remind her of the girl’s true heritage. Her physical resemblance to Katrina Peacecraft was uncanny even at this young age, and the wall of silence and independence she upheld - always such a struggle to penetrate - would always make her wonder how much of the Peacecraft character she had inherited as well. The thought of Relena following her biological parents’ footsteps in even the most insignificant of ways was a daunting one, one wreathed in flames and bedded in the ashes of human flesh, but Mareen knew her old friends would not have wanted their daughter to grow up fearful of the consequences of her own ideals.

"That’s not true at all. Princesses can save their people just like princes can. They just have to want to."

"This one doesn’t." Relena said, looking at their hands morosely. "We watched a video of last year’s class doing the play. All she does is scream for help and beg the prince to save her castle." Her nose scrunched up. "And stand on the edge of a cliff all scared of falling off, without jumping back."

Mareen remembered that play; she’d been a shepherdess in it herself, in her own time at the St Gabriel Institute. "It’s just a bit old-fashioned. There are plenty of other princesses who get to do more than that. If you were a real princess, no-one would be able to stop you from slaying the dragon and saving the day all by yourself."

Still chewing on her bottom lip, Relena looked up at her mother. "Really?"

"Really."

She cocked her head and seemed to be mulling over something. "Father is kind of like a king, right? He’s rich and important and works for the government, and stuff."

Seeing where this was going, Mareen smiled sadly. "I suppose he is."

"So am I like a princess?"

"You’ll always be our little princess."

"So even though everybody only likes me because of Father, I can still be a real heroine, right?"

Mareen felt her heart break a little, but Relena seemed to be cheered right up when she answered "Of course. Of course.".

Relena squeezed her hands and pulled them free, attacking her previously abandoned rice pudding with gusto. She asked her mother to tell her about the princesses she knew that saved the day and soaked up everything Mareen told her, almost as if she was looking for examples and taking notes.

 _They don’t only like you because of your father,_ Mareen thought. _They like you because they know without realising it that you_ are _a princess and would save them whenever they needed saving._

But the days of the Sank Kingdom were over. Relena Peacecraft had ceased to exist when she was two years old. So the comfort of an ordinary mother was the only thing Mareen had to offer this misplaced spark of nobility.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome.


End file.
